That Fateful Night
by oldshowaddict2015
Summary: The year is 1986. Doc has a new invention that deals with time travel that he wants to show Marty. The thing is, he's still working out the kinks and when Marty accidentally messes with it, he winds up being a passenger on the famous ship of all-the Titanic. With time and his mind working against him, Marty must get off the ship before it sinks. R&R. No flames! Thanks!
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

**April 15****th****, 1912**

**The middle of the North Atlantic**

**2:20 a.m.**

**Marty had followed the rest of the ill-fated passengers to the top of the stern. He looked around as it bobbled. People had jumped off of the stern and into the freezing water below. Screaming was heard all around him. Beside him, Sherilyn kept her eyes shut and shook as another cold breeze hit her. It picked up a little more, the coldness of it biting at Marty's hands, face, and neck. His breath hovered in front of him in little white puffs, as if someone was smoking, and he shook just a little. He looked at Sherilyn who was gripping the rail so hard her knuckles had turned white. Another shiver ran through his body, and Marty did all he could to not let go.**

"**God damn it, Doc." He muttered under his breath. "Where are you when I need you?"**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

July 6th, 1986

Hill Valley, California

12:26 p.m.

Marty stirred slightly. He was in his normal sleeping position-his head face down on the pillow with some drool leaking out of his mouth, butt in the air-as the phone rang. At first, the eighteen year old had no idea what it was. He thought it was a slight ringing in his head. But as he came to, he came to realize what it was. Weakly, he reached out, grabbed the phone, and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Marty? Jesus, you sound horrible." Jennifer's voice came over the receiver.

"Oh, gee, thanks, Jen. I hadn't noticed." Marty's voice dripped with sarcasm. "That's a lovely greeting by the way. Besides, you aren't supposed to sound wonderful when you're getting over a stomach virus and a sore throat."

"Good point. I still can't see how you got like this in the middle of summer, though..."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us..."

"Well, listen, this is the reason I called. Dr. Brown wants to see you. He said he's called a couple of times, but when he got no answer he called me instead."

"What does he want?" Marty ran a hand over his face, officially awake now.

"I don't know. Something about a new time traveling invention he made. He didn't go into detail about it with me."

"I thought he was giving that up after he got Clara and the kids settled down in 1986."

"Guess not." Jennifer giggled. "Call him when you can, though."

"I will after I eat."

"You can eat now?"

"I can try, but I still have trouble keeping some things down. I've gotten better though. No fever."

"Good." He could hear the relief in his girlfriend's voice. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The line clicked and Marty hung the phone up. He stayed in bed before he slowly got up and made his way out of his room. He could hear the hitting of the typewriter keys in his father's office-George was working hard on his second book-the TV on the news as Dave got ready for work, and Linda on her own personal phone line, talking to Greg or Craig-Marty couldn't remember which. Lorraine sat at the table, paper in hand, and looked up as her youngest weakly made his way into the room.

"Marty." She stood and walked over to him. "How're you feeling?" she began to fret over him just a bit and put a hand to his forehead.

"Mom..." Marty groaned.

"No fever..." Lorraine thought to herself. "Do you feel better?"

"A bit. I think I can go outside now."

"Not unless I say so." Lorraine shook her head.

"Mom..." Marty whined. "I feel fine."

"I just want to keep an eye on you. After all, you've been sick for a while..."

"Mom." Marty smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. Really." He made his way into the kitchen.

"Eat something light. Like soup." Lorraine called after him.

"I am."

The woman shook her head and then sat back down.

Marty leaned on the counter as the phone rang again. He picked it up, placing his small piece of bread down.

"Hello?" he asked, his mouth half full.

"Marty? It's Doc."

"Hey, Doc. What's going on?" Marty smiled.

"Not much..." Doc sounded unsure on how to answer that question, even after knowing the teen for four years. "Listen, Marty, can you make it over to my lab around one thirty?"

"This afternoon?"

"Yes."

"I think so. I just have to get dressed and stuff." Marty looked down at his pajamas-an old, faded Van Halen shirt and his boxers (something he began to wear after his adventure to 1955, thanks to the "Calvin Klein" remark his mother made).

"Good. Remember. One thirty p.m. sharp."

"You got it, Doc." Marty nodded and hung up.

July 6th, 1986

Hill Valley, California

1:25 p.m.

Marty hopped off of his skateboard, his Van Halen tape in the Walkman blasting in his ears, and then made his way over to the front door. He turned his music off and knocked on it, placing his headphones around his neck. The door opened a few minutes later and Jules, the oldest of Doc and Clara's sons, stood there. He smiled and stepped to the side.

"Hey, Marty, nice to see you up and about again."

"Not for long, Jules." Marty shook his head as he walked in. "I'm still a little sick...just not running a fever like a couple of days ago."

Jules took a step back. "Oh..."

"What? You scared of gettin' sick?" Marty smirked.

"Uh uh...I just...don't like to be coughed on..."

Marty began to fake cough and Jules's eyes widened and he ran and hid in his bedroom. The eighteen year old laughed.

"Marty?" he heard. "Is that you?" Doc's voice floated up the stairs.

"Yeah."

"Clara and I are down here."

"I'll be there in a second." Marty placed his skateboard down and made his way to the basement. He looked in and saw Doc working on his latest invention and Clara waiting.

"Stand very still." The scientist advised his wife.

"I'm trying." Clara's soft voice responded. Marty knocked on the doorframe.

"Hey, Doc, Clara." He said.

"Stay right there, Marty. Don't move." Doc told him. Marty froze in place. Doc pushed a button on something that was the size of half of a brick and the little machine whirred to life. Clara, who wasn't used to any modern day machinery, jumped at the sound. Then, remembering her husband's words, she stood perfectly still. She hadn't gotten used to the modern day hairstyles, so her long brown hair hung down in a braid down her back. But, she had gone to wearing a t-shirt and jeans from time to time-like now-which had surprised both Marty and Doc.

Suddenly, there was a loud popping noise and Clara disappeared.

"Doc..." Marty started. Doc held up his hand, pushed another button, and Clara returned, wearing hippie clothing with a peace sign painted onto her face, and realization in her eyes.

"No wonder everyone liked Woodstock..." she muttered. Marty laughed quietly and walked over, holding in a cough.

"Doc, this is...brilliant." he looked at Clara. "How long were you gone?"

"I don't know...a few days maybe. Met this hippie couple, the Keatons, with the cutest little baby boy." She smiled.

"Heavy." Marty grinned and then turned to Doc. "Can I go to Woodstock now?"

"Marty, please, be serious." Doc shook his head. "What you just witnessed was my latest invention."

"It's neat. What is it?"

"A time traveling transporting device. It can take you anywhere."

"Like the DeLorean, right?"

"Almost. This-" he held up the cube. "Has the flux capacitor and keypad all together. Right here-" he pushed a little black button. "Is the switch. It can take you anywhere you want to go. Anytime, anywhere, any continent-something the DeLorean or the train couldn't do."

"Heavy..." Marty breathed.

"I'm still working out a few kinks. It's been going on and off over and over again for the past few days." Doc set it down and sighed. Marty picked it up, carefully, and analyzed the screen and keypad. It was a lot like the one in the DeLorean except the screen and keypad were together and not separate. It flickered and the date APRIL 10 1912 flashed on the top row, in the middle it showed ENGLAND, LIVERPOOL flashing, on the bottom it showed JULY 6 1986 and underneath that it had AMERICA, HILL VALLEY, CALIFORNIA.

"Doc... It's doing it again."

"Damn thing." Doc grabbed the device out of Marty's hands and turned it off. "I'll get it fixed sooner or later. Preferably sooner. This is the next generation of time traveling, Marty."

"It's amazing." Marty grinned.

"Just don't go near it or use it and you'll be fine. Wait until I've got it fixed."

"I will." Marty promised. Clara sighed.

"I'm going to change into something more comfortable. There's something weird about these 1969 clothes that I don't like." She walked upstairs.

"Marty, I'm going to go check on the boys. You can wait here if you like." Doc said and then left the room.

"You got it." Marty nodded. His eyes drifted back down to that cube Doc left lying on the table.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

July 6th, 1986

Hill Valley, California

1:36 p.m.

Marty analyzed Doc's new invention. Tossing it between his hands, he heard it suddenly come on. The eighteen year old's eyes widened as it shows the same date as before: APRIL 10 1912. The same whirring noise from earlier filled the room and Marty frantically tried to turn it off. Suddenly he felt weightless and as if he was being stretched by unseen forces. Then, as quick as it had happened, it was over.

April 10th, 1912

Liverpool, England

9:30 a.m.

"She's grand, isn't she?" a man asked.

"Aye, very." Another answered. Marty looked around, panicking suddenly. He seemed to be at a harbor. People in old clothing walked around as Marty gaped. He looked down at himself and saw that he wore a black fancy coat with actual gold cuff links. He also had on a white dress shirt, vest and a black bowtie. His slacks were black and he wore black dress shoes and a black hat. This helped him fit in more than his usual red undershirt, white and blackish/greenish plaid over shirt, suspenders, jeans, and Nikes. A man with blonde hair and green eyes was laughing at a joke a friend had just made and the eighteen year old walked over to him.

"Excuse me..."

"Yes?" the man looked at him.

"I don't mean to be weird or anything, but...could you tell me today's date?"

"Why yes, my good man. It's April 10th."

"April 10th...?"

"1912."

A ship's horn blew and Marty turned on his heels. There, in the water, was the _Titanic_. It was really a sight for the young time traveler to see-after all; he had only seen pictures of it in history books. And when they rediscovered it on September 1st, 1985, and had shown pictures of how it looked now, he had been intrigued to see it in person. But not anytime soon.

The eighteen year old walked away from the man and towards the ship. First class passengers were getting their things out of the trunks of their cars and onto it. He placed his hand in his pocket, froze and took out a first class passenger ticket and his heart dropped.

"Son of a bitch..." he debated on actually going on the ship when he saw a young woman-probably sixteen or seventeen-with light brown hair and hazel eyes. It was easy to tell that she was a third class passenger. Her dress was a very plain dark blue and she wore gloves that had seen better days. Beside her was a man that looked to be her father, dressed in black baggy pants and a white shirt, along with a black hat that had seen better days. The girl was dragged along to the ship, was placed on, and disappeared. Marty looked around, took his hat off, fixed his hair that was already slicked back, placed his hat back on, and walked up to the man at the door to board the ship. He needed another look at that girl. For some reason, she looked eerily familiar and he realized that he wouldn't get another look unless he boarded the ill-fated ship.

"Hello." The man gave off a soft smile. Marty tipped his hat. "Ticket?" the eighteen year old handed him the ticket. "Ah, yes. Climb aboard sir. Room B54."

Marty nodded and boarded. He searched around until he reached the first class quarters and found his room. He walked in and looked around.

The room was filled with lavish furniture. A statue was in the far right corner next to a plush, dark red chair. A couch was on the other side of the room, with a very intricate and expensive rug in the middle of the red carpet. The walls were painted a bright white and a beautiful mahogany fireplace on the other side of the room. He walked through another door and saw the bathroom, a more simple room than the sitting room. He looked at the door-it seemed to be mahogany as well with a gold doorknob. Shutting it, he went to the bedroom and saw a large bed with silk sheets and pillowcases, and a beautiful bedspread. There was a fireplace in there as well.

"Jesus Christ...these people were ridiculously rich..." he sighed and shut the bedroom door, leaning on it.

"Marty." He heard. The eighteen year old jumped and stuck his hand back into his pocket. A small, yellow walkie talkie was there and he quickly took it out.

"Doc? Is that you?"

"Marty where are you?"

"You'll never believe this, Doc. I'm a first class passenger on the _Titanic_."

"The _Titanic_!" Doc groaned quietly.

"This is heavy. When I got here, I was in 1912 clothing and I had a ticket in my pocket. And a walkie talkie apparently."

"Yes, it was another feature I added to the transporting device. Any place you go, it fits you with clothing of the time period and anything else you might need."

"Well it apparently wants me to die."

"Or your strength and will to live is being tested."

"It's been tested."

"Not like this." At that, Marty groaned quietly. "It's strange...the transporting device is supposed to go with you."

"Let me guess...it's in the basement."

"That's correct."

"God damn it."

"Look, Marty. Don't talk to anyone, don't change anything, try not to even leave your stateroom unless you absolutely need to. The littlest thing you do could have incredible repercussions on the future."

"Like what?"

"Like the _Titanic _not sinking. If you say anything that even has to remotely deal with the iceberg or the sinking it could change things drastically. Remember, the ship had to sink in order for safety to be better regulated and updated on the passenger ships."

"Doc...I'm scared. I could die in four or five days."

"Don't worry about that. I am currently working on the device as we speak. I could have it fixed soon and bring you back to 1986."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Meanwhile, you be careful."

"I will be. I swear."

And with that, the line went dead. Marty stuck the walkie talkie into his pocket and flopped down into a chair. He jumped, surprised, not expecting it to be that comfortable. "Holy shit." He smiled. "I like this chair."

Suddenly, there was commotion outside and the young brunette stood and looked out his window. He saw people gathering on all three levels of the deck and he quickly walked out. People were yelling their goodbyes to their loved ones and friends. _These poor people_, Marty thought to himself. _They don't even know what they're going to go through._

"Goodbye!"

"I'll miss you!"

"I will never forget you!"

"I love you!"

Marty ran up to the edge and looked over. From the first class deck, the people that were on the ground looking back up and waving looked like tiny little ants, waving their handkerchiefs and some waving their hats. The ship's whistle blew and they began to leave the harbor. That was when he realized.

He was stuck on a ship that would sink in five days' time. And unless Doc fixed that transporting device, he would be a goner.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Yeah, I know the dream sequence is odd...but they all usually are XD

Chapter Three

April 10th, 1912

The middle of the North Atlantic

7:56 p.m.

Marty stared at the ceiling. He messed with one of the pillows and let it flop down onto his face. Sighing, he pushed it to the side. Letting his brown hair fall into his face, he coughed terribly. The scraping on his throat seemed to get worse, and it wasn't going to help any if he got touched by that water in five days. He needed to get out as soon as possible.

Standing, he got up and walked out of the stateroom in search of that girl again. He knew she was third class and that she was hard to see from the first class desk more than likely. But, nevertheless, he needed to get a look at her. She just seemed so familiar. It was messing with his head. He coughed again, covering his mouth, and an older couple stared at him.

"Sorry..." Marty croaked quietly and then he made his way to the deck. The cool air hit his face, making him jump. But he knew that it would get colder as time went on. He coughed again and then leaned on the railing. He looked down and saw only one lone woman lying down on a bench, staring up at the stars. She had the same hair color. That's when he found out. "Hey!" he yelled. The girl didn't move and he groaned quietly. "Hey!" he yelled, louder this time. The girl jumped and looked around, unsure of where the voice came from. "She heard me..." Marty ran down the stairs and to where the girl was. The girl jumped, noticeably, and sat up. Not looking at him, she stood, got up and walked over to the railing. Marty heard her growl quietly and then take her gloves off. She threw them into the water below. The time traveler then cleared his throat. Turning, the girl stared at him.

"You're not supposed to be here. This is my part of the ship. Leave." She had a thick English accent and her eyes narrowed, staring him down like daggers.

"Not until you tell me why you're alone." Marty spoke calmly and evenly, his hands in his pockets.

"That's not your business."

"It is now."

"I like to be alone. Especially when my father plans to uproot me. I like to alone with my thoughts. Good day, sir." She then turned back and faced the water.

"Do you want to talk?"

"I'd rather not."

Marty sighed and walked over to her. He stood next to her and the girl stiffened, moved away, and didn't look at him. "It's not good to have things bottled up inside." The girl rolled her eyes. "Look, I know I'm a stranger but...I can help."

"Oh you can, can you?" the girl snapped her head to look at him. "You think you're some kind of genius? A person who thinks that he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants?"

"No. I'm a nice person. I like to find out what's bothering people."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, no?" Marty cocked an eyebrow. He knew he wasn't going to be able to tell her his stories of time traveling, but he felt as if he had seen it all. "Try me."

"My father...he decided to move to America. Once we go into port, we're going to go to California. Los Angeles, something like that. It's going to be terrible."

"It's not that bad."

"You have been there?"

"I used to live there. Don't worry. You'll love it."

"I guess."

"Hey. Take it from me."

The girl smiled slightly. "I'm Sherilyn, by the way. Sherilyn Smith."

Marty thought for a second, trying to think of a name. Calvin Klein was out, as was Clint Eastwood. There was only one he could actually think of.

"Huey Lewis." And right then, he bit his lip. He had taken the name of a famous singer in his time. Not exactly a name he would've chosen, but it was a name he could use nonetheless.

"Huey... Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too." Marty looked down at the water below.

"Wouldn't you just love it?"

"Love what?" he looked back at Sherilyn.

"To be free. To flow wherever you want, like the water does."

"I've never thought about it before." Marty bit his lip. A soft, cool breeze went past them, blowing Sherilyn's hair just right. He looked at her, and he felt as if he had been struck by lightning. Her hazel eyes twinkled in the starlight, and Marty's breath was just taken away at the sight.

"Sherilyn!" a yell broke the silence. The two jumped. "Sherilyn!"

"I'm coming!" the young girl snapped. She turned back to Marty and smiled. A smile that he had seen before and that absolutely made him melt. Like now. "I'll see you later, Huey." She starts to leave, but then turned and stopped. "I will see you, won't I?"

"Oh yeah... Definitely..." Marty grinned. Sherilyn gave off a small wave and then scurried out of sight. Marty watched after her and then slowly made his way back to the first class deck.

_Marty's Dream World_

_April 10__th__, 1912_

_3:00 a.m._

_It was dark. No lights were on in the room. His bedroom door slowly opened and Sherilyn walked in, wearing an extremely sheer, see-through gown. His heart began to pound and he could feel himself break a sweat. Sherilyn moved closer to the bed, and he felt her body heat as she got on top of him. Her hands went under his shirt, stroked his chest lightly, and made their way down to the button of his pants. _

"_No!" someone yelled. It was an echoic type scream, and Jennifer slowly came into focus. "Get away from him! He's mine!"_

_But neither paid any attention. Sherilyn took Marty's hand and placed it on her breast. Squeezing it, Marty reached up and kissed her._

"_No!" Jennifer screamed again._

_Sherilyn pulled away, keeping the eighteen year old's hand on her breast, and began to undo his pants. She took them off, and then, after removing his hand, took off her gown, got on top of him._

"_No!" Jennifer screamed again._

_Then, it all faded to black._

April 11th, 1912

The middle of the North Atlantic

8:45 a.m.

Marty hopped up from his dream and began coughing again. He felt weak, like a few days before, and prayed to God that he wasn't getting sick again. He looked at the time and then looked out the window. He had about three days to get home. Not exactly something he wanted to think about.

All he wanted to do was to be with Sherilyn. Jennifer had gone out of his mind. All that occupied it was Sherilyn and getting home.

But, at this point and for some odd reason, Sherilyn seemed to be more important.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Five

April 12th, 1912

8:52 a.m.

The middle of the North Atlantic

Marty wandered around on the third class deck of the ship. He looked around, trying to act nonchalant and as if he wasn't looking for anyone. Suddenly, someone yanked on his wrist and pulled him back.

"Huey!"

Marty turned and saw Sherilyn giggling. She linked arms with him, and the time traveler could feel his heart race.

"Well, mornin' Miss Smith." Marty tipped his top hat and mocked a southern accent, making Sherilyn giggle more.

"I told you, it's Sherilyn."

"Sorry." Marty stroked her cheek lightly. Sherilyn leaned into his touch and the teen did everything in his power not to cough. His throat hadn't really been bothering him; he figured it was one of those things that would pass.

"Sherilyn!" yelled a booming voice.

"Oh... Damn..." Sherilyn sighed. "It's me father... I have to go." She began to leave, but Marty held her hand.

"Sherilyn, I want to ask you something before you go."

"Yes?" she looked at him, her twinkling eyes looking into his.

"Would you have dinner with me tonight? I know I had dinner with you last night, but... I would love to have you on my arm as I walked into the first class dining room tonight."

Sherilyn giggled again. "I would love to." She smiled.

"Sherilyn!" the voice came again. Sherilyn sighed.

"Okay, I really have to go." She kissed Marty quickly.

"Right..."

"I'll see you tonight." The young woman ran from his side. Marty grinned, lopsidedly.

"You know it." He left and walked around a little. Some third class passengers looked at him, amazed at why a man so rich would be on the third class deck. Marty swallowed hard and tipped his hat to them, and made his way up and back onto the first class deck. He walked into one of the restaurants for breakfast and looked around. There were low voices talking, women and children sitting straight up in their chairs. The men did the same, chatting with their wives, where were telling any slouching child to sit up.

"Are you fucking kidding me...?" Marty mumbled to himself. "It's like they all have poles up their asses." It was ridiculous. At least he thought it was. He started counting down the days he'd have to be stuck here, depending on when Doc would have that time traveling device fixed.

April 12th, 1912

7:36 p.m.

The middle of the North Atlantic

Marty hurried down from the first class deck and waited at the stairs. He looked around and hummed a tune, crossing his arms.

"Mr. Lewis?" a giggle from behind him is heard. Marty turned. Sherilyn was wearing her best dress, an old red evening gown with a shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore chandelier drop earrings with a simple golden necklace with a ruby stud.

"Sherilyn, you look... Wow..." Marty was lost for words. Sherilyn smiled.

"Thank you."

"Where did you...?"

"It was me mum's. Do you like it?"

"I love it." He put his arm around her waist. Sherilyn pulled away, teasingly. She waved her finger and clicked her tongue.

"Being awfully forward, aren't we, _Huey_?"

"You're the one who called me by my first name." Marty smirked. He held his arm out and Sherilyn linked hers with his. "Let's go."

April 12th, 1912

7:42 p.m.

The middle of the North Atlantic

"I can't believe I'm actually drinking champagne."

"Why? Did you always think it was a 'rich people's drink'?"

Sherilyn and Marty sat at a table alone as the waiters came around with food. They linked their arms together and drunk the alcoholic beverage. Sherilyn began to giggle again.

"Sorry, I think it's going straight to my head."

"Drink some water." The time traveler took a bite of his food. "I think it'll help.'

Sherilyn did as told, keeping away from the alcohol. Marty looked over at her as a strand of her light brown hair fell out of the bun. He tucked it behind her ear and she looked at him.

"What?"

"Sorry, a strand just...fell out of the bun."

"Oh yes... Well... My hair has always had a mind of its own." Sherilyn smiled.

"Mine's like that too." He nodded. "I could never get it right; I just leave it the way it is."

"So do I sometimes." The McFly laughed quietly as Sherilyn began to eat again. She looked around.

"Does everyone sit like this?" she asked. "With sticks up their bums?" Marty couldn't help himself. He started laughing. His shoulders shook with laughter and Sherilyn looked at him, confused. "What? What did I say?"

"B... B..." Marty calmed himself down. "Bums. I'm sorry, it's just a funny word." He laughed a little more. "But yes. Apparently everyone sits like this."

"Well..." Sherilyn cleared her throat and slouched. "I won't."

"Ooh, rebellious." The eighteen year old teased.

"Oh, shut your pie hole." Sherilyn smiled.

April 12th, 1912

11:52 p.m.

The middle of the North Atlantic

"Did your father say what time he needed you back?"

"No, he never gives me a specific time. After all, I am grown now." Sherilyn sighed. They were linking arms again and walking around on the first class deck. "I suppose it doesn't matter."

"No, I guess not."

They walked around a little more before they reached the stairs. Sherilyn stopped. Marty looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Sherilyn?"

"Could we...go somewhere else? I'm having such a nice evening; I don't want it to end."

Marty stroked her cheek and Sherilyn held his hand still. "Well..." he started. "Where, ah...where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere."

"I have an idea." The eighteen year old began walking around on the first class deck until he made his way over to a door. He walked inside, and the two walked around the halls, Sherilyn's mouth agape.

"Wow..." she gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

"What?"

"I...I've never seen such nice things before..."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Six

April 13th, 1912

9:10 a.m.

The middle of the North Atlantic

Marty stared at the clock. It was one day before the sinking. He began to feel a little on edge. Doc hadn't contacted him at all, meaning he was still hard at work on the time traveling device, but it still made Marty more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He paced in his stateroom, occasionally glancing at his walkie talkie. Sometimes, he would pick it up and turn it on, but he ended up not saying anything and set it back down. He walked out of the stateroom and froze as a cough attack hit him. He leaned on the wall, his throat becoming scratchy again, and groaned. He looked around and cleared his throat as some people passed by with somewhat sympathetic glances. Marty walked out and onto the deck. He leaned on the railing and looked around. The itch still lingered in his throat, and he feared that it could be returning with a vengeance. Cold water, if he had to be in it, and a sore throat was not a good combination. He dreaded the thought. It's all he could think about. In the cold water, screaming for help, and his voice slowly dying off.

Marty shook his head. The thought was ridiculous. Doc could easily fix his invention in time, couldn't he? He _did _think it up and make it up himself. And besides, he was a brilliant scientist. He knew what he was doing.

"Are you Mr. Lewis?" a man walked up behind him. Marty turned after a minute, lost in his thoughts.

"No... I-I mean, yes. Yes, I'm Mr. Lewis." _Dammit Marty, don't be such an idiot_, he mentally scolded himself. The man held out a slip of paper.

"This was given to me to give to you by a young woman."

"Sherilyn?" Marty's eyes lit up.

"I would guess so, sir, she didn't give us a name." the man left his side. Marty opened the note. The words were written in delicate cursive handwriting.

_Meet me tonight at nine at the stairs. I want to do something tonight, just you and me. I'll be counting the hours, my love._

_S.S._

S.S. He knew who it was exactly. Shoving the slip in his pocket, he hurried back to his stateroom, grinning. Once he got inside, he went over to the walkie talkie and turned it on

"—_arty?" _Came the voice. But it wasn't Doc's, it was Clara's.

"Clara? You're using a walkie talkie now?" the eighteen year old man furrowed his eyebrows.

"_Surprisingly. Listen... I just wanted to check in on you, see if you were okay_."

"Everything's fine, so far. I mean, it's the day before the sinking. How's Doc doing on his invention?"

"_Emmett's about ready to throw it against the wall, he can't find out what's wrong with it. I'm sure he will, he's a smart man, but this has gotten him so frustrated. He doesn't want to take a break. We need to get you back here as soon as possible..._"

"I know... I understand...ah... Clara... What if it doesn't work?" he lowered his voice, the fear now evident. He was never like this around Sherilyn, but when he was alone, the thoughts crept back into his mind. He was eighteen. He was too young to die. He still had a life to live. He still had to fulfill his dream.

"_It has to work_." Clara said, finality in her voice. It reminded Marty of the time Doc had said "We must succeed." when they were traveling back to 1955 for the second time to get the book from Biff. "_Otherwise... Well... I'm sure everything would turn upside down. Emmett's already beginning to blame himself if you don't make it, and I'm not going to let that happen_."

"If I don't make it, Clara and Doc and I aren't able to talk before the sinking... Tell him I said it wasn't his fault. And...and that he was always like a second father to me."

A sniffle was heard on the other end of the line. "_Don't talk like that, not now_." He could just see Clara shaking her head, holding a handkerchief or a Kleenex (whichever was closer) in her hand with her eyes shut. "_You'll be back here in 1986. I promise_."

"Thank you. And Clara?"

"_Yes_?"

"Thanks for checking up on me."

With that, both lines went dead from the walkie talkies turning off. Marty put his on the table and sat in the chair, staring off into space and thinking to himself. The thought of him in the cold water came back and it made the skin on the back of his neck crawl, goose bumps covering his whole body. He began to shake from fear and he shut his eyes. Coming on this ship, though he had met Sherilyn, had probably been one of his stupidest decisions that he had ever made in his life.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Seven

April 13th 1912

8:59 p.m.

The middle of the North Atlantic

Marty stood at the stairs, his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked around, biting his lip, the thoughts still lingering in his head.

"Fancy meeting you here." Said a cheerful and joking voice. Marty looked up and saw Sherilyn wearing a coat, way too large for a woman her size. She smiled softly. "Evening, Huey."

"Good evening, Sherilyn."

"I'm glad to see you got my note."

"Yeah... So..." the time traveler looked down. "What is it that you wanted to do tonight, anyway?"

"Could you take me to your stateroom? We could discuss it there, not out in the open."

"Yes."

They linked arms and made their way inside and to Marty's stateroom where Sherilyn stopped at the door and looked around. "Blimey!" she exclaimed. Marty quickly took off his coat and threw it over the walkie talkie that he had left on the table. If Sherilyn had seen it, it would've been bad for the both of them.

"Blimey?" he looked at her as she shut the door.

"Yes... I've never been in a first class stateroom before." She laughed quietly. "I suppose it was because I've been poor all my life." She looked down as Marty took his top hat off and walked over to her. Sherilyn looked at him and gently placed a hand on his chest. "Huey... I've been thinking... I've waited all my life to find a man like you." She looked at him. "A man who is charming, handsome, funny, and..." she giggled. "If you'll excuse me, laughs at the word 'bum'. You truly are an American. But that's not a bad thing."

"Well I never thought so." Marty held her hand. His other arm he placed around her waist and he held her close to him.

"I've always been the...pristine girl...the china doll... I want to stop that. I want to experience something new."

"Well, that's...that's good."

"With you."

"Oh." His voice cracked a little.

"Huey, I find you very attractive."

"Oh?" this time, his voice started to shake. He was a virgin as well, he had no idea what to do.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. Fine. Sure. Yeah." Marty nodded quickly.

"I'll be back." Sherilyn kissed him softly. "Wait for me."

"Oh, I will." Marty kept nodding. Sherilyn smiled and went towards the bedroom, shutting the door. A static noise was heard.

"_Marty_!" Doc's voice was heard. Marty ran over to the walkie talkie and picked it up.

"Doc, not now."

"_Marty, it's urgent_—"

"I said _not now_!" he turned the walkie talkie off and hid it again. _Jesus,_ he thought to himself. _I'm probably about to get laid and the Doc chooses _this _time to talk? Boy, he really does have bad timing..._

"Huey..." called a seductive voice. Marty turned and his mouth slowly dropped open. Sherilyn stood in his doorway, wearing an extremely sheer, see-through gown, much like the one he had seen in his dream.

"Whoa..." he had to close his mouth after a second. "Where did...where did you, ah...get that?"

"A friend from the third class." She winked.

"You...ah...well...you look...uh..."

"Thanks." Sherilyn giggled. Marty looked at the door for half a second, ran over to it and locked it.

"We don't need any interruptions." He smiled a little.

"Good idea." Sherilyn smiled.

"Now..." Marty took in a deep breath and made his way over to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her deeply. Sherilyn moaned quietly and wrapped his arms around his neck. She took off his bowtie in one swift motion and began to unbutton his shirt. She took it off of him and her hand slid down to his pants, unbuttoning them. Marty pulled away, kissing down her neck and sucking on certain areas until he got a moan.

"Touch me..." Sherilyn whispered. Marty didn't raise his hand for a moment, leaving her to take the initiative and placing his hand on her breast. He nibbled on her neck a little and Sherilyn shoved her hand in his pants.


End file.
